


Lucky 13

by CapGirlCanuck



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Aunt Peggy Carter, Awesome Peggy Carter, Awesome Sharon Carter (Marvel), Books, Canon Compliant, Childhood, Christmas Fluff, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Girls with Guns, Growing Up, Imagination, Kid Fic, Kid Sharon Carter (Marvel), Minor Character Death, Paintball, Pre-Canon, SHIELD Missions, She needs a backstory, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-12 10:55:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29134419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapGirlCanuck/pseuds/CapGirlCanuck
Summary: Before SHIELD, before Project Insight, before HYDRA and the Winter Soldier reared their heads, there was a world of adventure.There were Aunt Peggy's stories, and Daddy's chess games, and Mommy's songs. There was laughter, and love, and an ocean of imagination in her best friend Rita. There were grass stains and ice cream cones, movie tickets and target practice. And there was a whole lot of growing up to do for Agent 13, otherwise known as Sharon Carter.
Comments: 14
Kudos: 5





	1. Bedtime Stories

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Griselda_Banks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Griselda_Banks/gifts), [SergeantToMyCaptain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SergeantToMyCaptain/gifts).



> This is my take on Sharon's backstory. I love her, and it is a crime against humanity that we didn't got more of her in the movies. I will do some things noticeably different from the popular takes. Mostly it's a lot of family fluff and friendship, with occasional doses of angst. Also lots of plugs for favourite books and movies of mine ;) Hope my readers will give some of them a look up. 
> 
> One important note: Obviously this is coming out before the Falcon & Winter Soldier series, which will have more stuff from Sharon. But that is outside the Infinity Saga, so to me it's optional canon. And I don't know when I'm going to see any of it, so no discussing it here, please and thank you. :)
> 
> Happy Birthday, Grizz! I love you so much, and am so grateful God brought you into this world, and into my life. XXOO

Daddy was late for supper.

Sharon sat at the top of the staircase, watching the front door and sniffing at the frying of bangers and baking of cornbread going on in the kitchen. She and Rita had played Island Natives and fighting pirates all day in the woods, and she was starving.

But that happened sometimes, Daddy being late, and it usually meant something exciting, like a trip to Florida or Nevada. The last place they’d gone was Nevada. Daddy had been busy with his ‘case’, so she and Mommy had gone to see the wild horses. That had been even more fun than Disneyland.

Horses were prettier than princesses. And they smelled good, and she got to get dirty, and that had made her tell Daddy back at the hotel that night, “I’m going to be a cowgirl.”

But she wasn’t sure about that anymore. That was way back in the spring, a long time ago. Maybe she would only be a cowgirl sometimes. Because it would be just as much fun to sail on the ocean as an explorer, like the kids in the book Aunt Peggy had started reading her.

She could find an island no one knew about, and make friends with the natives and learn about making coconut milk and how to fight a shark and dance around big fires in the dark. And never have to wear anything more than her bathing suit, because it would be nice and warm.

Rita would be with her, and they’d have a grand time.

Sharon hummed a little of the wild dance tune they had made up that afternoon, and then hunched forward to peer through the banisters toward the kitchen. She could hear Mommy and Mrs. Levellie—Mommy called her Esther—laughing in there. She could see the legs of Mommy’s blue jeans, and Mrs. Levellie’s red pants. Mrs. Levellie liked wearing red.

Sharon loved Mrs. Levellie. She made the best cookies, and used lots of maple syrupy things in her baking because she was from Canada. She had been the Carter’s housekeeper and cook for Sharon’s whole life. She had long black hair she could sit on, when she undid it from where she folded and pinned it on the back of her head.

Sharon craned her neck even farther to try to see what the two women were doing, and started to tip forward. She caught at a spindle with one hand, and carefully eased her bum back onto the step, trying not to breathe too fast. She didn’t want Mommy to hear her. If she had tumbled down the stairs again, that would have been so embarrassing.

Good. Mommy and Mrs. Levellie were talking about the garden.

Sharon gave Bunty a squeeze, and whispered into one long floppy ear, “Remember we promised Daddy.”

She had been attempting to slide up the bannister like Mary Poppins, and tumbled down the stairs to the bottom, hitting her head hard, and making her nose bleed. Daddy had said she could slide down the banister all she wanted to as soon as she was tall enough which would probably be when she was eight, and would she please promise not to do it until then? Because she had scared him when he thought she was hurt.

Sharon could never say no to Daddy.

Daddy had also said that Mary Poppins had magic, but Sharon didn’t, so she had to obey the laws of gravity. Daddy had read to her about gravity from the Encyclopeedeea.

Mommy and Mrs. Levellie had moved into the dining room, and Sharon could hear the faint thuds of plates going down on the table, the clinking of silverware.

A door opened downstairs, and she bolted to her feet.

“Girls! Where are my girls?”

Daddy always said that when he came home, and Sharon was scrambling down the stairs as fast as she could, jumping over the last two steps to the floor, and bolting for the kitchen.

Daddy was hanging up his hat and jacket in the hallway to the dining room, and Sharon rammed into his legs hard enough to make him stagger.

“Daddyyyy!”

He was laughing as he hoisted her up to his shoulder, leaned in to kiss her nose. “Shary-Shary-Sharon! How is my baby girl tonight?”

 _“Not_ a baby!”

“Always my baby!”

Sharon loved her daddy; his smell, his laugh, his brown eyes that Mommy said were exactly the same as hers.

“Will you call me a baby when I’m uhhhh… _twenty-four?!”_

“Not _a_ baby.” He nuzzled her cheek. _“My_ baby.”

Then Mommy was there, kissing Daddy, and the grown-ups were talking, but Sharon was twisting around to dig in her father’s pocket. He always brought her a sweet from the big jar on Mizz Greg’s desk. She ended up hanging over her father’s arm, upside-down as she fished out the candy.

When she was upright again, unwrapping the Jolly Rancher, and rejoicing at finding it in blue raspberry flavor, Daddy set her on the kitchen counter, while he washed his hands at the sink. Sharon pushed the lump of hard candy into her cheek and spoke around it.

“Daddy, where are we going?”

“Why would we be going anywhere?” He was drying his hands on a dishtowel, and tilted his head at her. Was he smiling? Just a little?

“Cause. When you get home late, that means we travah.”

“Tra-vel,” he sounded out, and she copied him, before he really was grinning at her. “Man, nothing gets by you does it. You are the cleverest little girl I have ever seen.” He tapped her nose. “We’ll talk about it after supper.”

“But–”

“After supper,” he said, in a tone that made her close her mouth and content herself with sucking on the sweet.

It had been a long summer’s day, with lots of energy, and Sharon was starting to feel sleepy over dessert, even with butterscotch ripple ice cream to eat with her cake. But she lifted her head sharply, when Mommy asked Daddy, “And I assume you’re going to Nebraska to meet her?”

“Nebaska?”

Daddy turned to smile at her, at the same time as Mrs. Levellie said, “Nebraska. There’s an r in it. Ne-br-aska.”

“Ne-br-aska,” Sharon repeated, waving her spoon to the beat of the word. “Is that where we are going Daddy?”

Daddy leaned on the table, glanced at Mommy, then back at Sharon. “No, punkin. Just me and Mommy are going this time. You get to stay with Aunt Peggy for a few days.”

The words ‘stay with Aunt Peggy’ drowned the disappointment instantly, and Sharon sat up, even more awake.

“Yayyy!” She stuck a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth and clasped her hands, jiggling in her chair. “Aunt Peggy!” mumbling around the spoon.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” Mommy said, but she was still smiling. “I know you have a lot of fun with Aunt Peggy, and I don’t think there is very much to see or do in Nebraska. So I think it’s a fair trade.”

Staying with Aunt Peggy was way better than going anywhere. Well, going to get an ice cream cone with Daddy was just a little bit better, and maybe riding horses with Mommy was too, but it was one of the best things ever.

Aunt Peggy was kind and gave good hugs and she read books to Sharon before bed. She would also take Sharon to her job, at a place called SHIELD in a big tall building that was still being finished, and Sharon could play with toys in her office, and stand at the big glass windows looking down at the river. Sharon liked being really high up.

Sometimes when there weren’t people coming or going, or if Sharon asked over supper at Aunt Peggy’s house, Aunt Peggy would tell stories about her adventures, or the adventures of the people in the photographs. There was Uncle Daniel, whom Sharon didn’t remember cause he had died a year before she was born, and Steve, who had been really small and then he got big and strong and people called him Captain America, and the comic books were about him. There was also a group of men called the Howlies, like wolves, and they had been Steve’s team. Aunt Peggy said all good heroes need a team to help them.

Sharon was so busy thinking about what stories Aunt Peggy might tell, and the next chapter of the Swallows and Amazons book she would read, that she didn’t realise she was falling asleep in Daddy’s lap, until Mommy was carrying her upstairs and running the bath water.

Splashing in the tub, and sinking a pirate ship like Captain Hook’s, woke her up enough that when Daddy came in to tuck her into bed and say ‘Goodnight’, she grabbed his sleeve.

“It’s your turn to tell a story tonight, Daddy.”

“Sure you aren’t too sleepy?” he smiled.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He sat on the bed and then swung his legs up and stretched out beside her on top of the blanket. Sharon snuggled up against his side. “What should I tell a story about?”

“You choose tonight?”

“Okay. What did you do today?”

“Rita and I were on a desert island and we danced around our bonfire and fought pirates.”

Daddy laughed a little bit. “I used to fight pirates with my best friend. But we were usually pirates ourselves. One time when we were at summer camp we started a pirate war with the boys in another cabin, and ended up pulling all the camp into it, eventually. We built our canoes into magnificent frigates, and staged a huge battle on the lake the day before camp ended.”

Sharon rested her cheek against Daddy’s shoulder, watching his hands move through the air, drawing pictures.

“It was magnificent. Two whole fleets flying the Jolly Roger, though with different colored flags, so we could tell who was winning. We had water bombs and water cannons, but the counsellors didn’t try to stop it, just hung around in case there were any injuries. One boy got hit in the head with a canoe, but he was alright except for bruising.

“I did get pretty scared at one point though, because Jeremy did almost drown. No one else noticed, and we didn’t tell anyone after. He had gone overboard to keelhaul a nearby enemy ship, and got taken onto another of our side’s ships. We always watched each other’s backs, so I did my best to keep an eye on him, even while fighting from my canoe.

“I know the other kid didn’t mean it, she just got carried away. She swam up to try to keelhaul Jeremy’s ship, and he was leaning over, fending her off, when she decided to try to climb over him. She didn’t realise she’d forced his head under water. The other boys and girls in the canoe were on the other side, locked in combat with the enemy and didn’t notice.

“I jumped in, swam over there in a jiffy. By then they’d fallen over the side into the water. I was pretty rough with the girl, dragging her off him. He taken on some water, but some healthy coughing and spluttering set him mostly to rights, and I took him back to our ship. He told me he thought he was going to die. I told him to stick close until he was sure he wouldn’t.

“It was a scary enough moment that we didn’t really talk about it until years after. I remember that Jeremy told that story at our wedding, me and Mommy’s. He said I was the best man he knew to keep around when fighting pirates.”

Harrison Carter Jr. let his voice drop to a whisper, before trailing off. He listened to Sharon’s deep breathing, and sat up slowly and carefully. But she was quite asleep this time. He leaned over to kiss his little girl’s forehead.

“If you need help fighting pirates, just call me,” he whispered.

He plugged in the purple flower nightlight, switched off the lamp, and slipped out of the room.

******

“And we’re coming in for a landing!” Rita shrieked.

“Look out for the dinosaurs!” Sharon yelled back.

The plane rocked wildly across the boards of the deck, bumping and whirring.

“Touchdown!” Sharon yelled, as the box reached the tipping point. They pitched forward, out of the plane, tumbling down three steps into the grass.

Both girls shrieked with laughter, until they both came to a stop on their backs. Staring up into the sky, they gasped.

“Dinosaurs!” Rita whispered, pointing up.

Sharon squinted in the sun, peered up at a… “What are they called again?” She sat up, shoved her hair out of her face.

“What are what called?” Rita sat up too, frowning at her. There was now a large green streak down the front of Rita’s pale blue shirt.

“The ones with the long necks. B-something.”

“I don’t know, you’re the one who reads all the books.”

Sharon rolled her eyes. “Okay, the Burp-sauruses then. But they are okay, cause they only eat plants.”

Both girls giggled, and Rita popped some grass into her mouth, chewed, and swallowed. Then she gulped a few times, and belched loudly.

“Why can’t I do that?” Sharon whined, making a face at her friend.

“Ask Kevin to show you how.” Rita jumped up, offered Sharon her hand. “Come on. There might be tigers in the jungle. Let’s look.”

Kevin was the biggest of Rita’s big brothers, and the nicest one, who always had gumballs in his pockets. Maybe she would ask him. Tomorrow.

Sharon raced after her friend, diving into the hollyhocks on Rita’s bare heels.

She and Rita had been friends for always. Rita’s house was on the other side of the circle. The only other house with kids, and they’d been playing together for as long as Sharon could remember. Sharon was a little bit older, because her birthday was in January and Rita’s was in June. Last month.

This year they would both be going to school. Sharon already knew how to read, and do some maths. Rita wasn’t as good at reading. So usually Sharon came up with the ideas for their adventures, and Rita would make them bigger, louder, and sometimes a little scary. Rita wasn’t scared of anything.

It was the bell at Rita’s house, ringing five times, that finally sent them running across the yard to the Carter’s house. Sharon made sure to grab Bunty from where he had ended up on the stone wall at one side of the deck. They banged through the back door, pelting into the kitchen, and pulled up beside Mommy at the counter, to sniff all the lovely smells of roast chicken and vanilla cake.

“One of these days we’re all going to have to give Pam an award for that bell of hers.” Mommy smiled down at them. “It brings every kid in the neighbourhood home for supper on time. Now go wash up.”

“Is Harry up yet?” Mrs. Levellie stuck her head in from the dining room. Harry was Daddy.

“Yes, I heard him in the bathroom upstairs. Go on, girls.” Mommy made a shooing motion with her hands, and they obediently scampered off. “And Rita, change your shirt!” she called after them.

“Race you,” Rita panted.

Technically, Bunty was the first one into Sharon’s room, and Rita was too hungry to argue. She grabbed a shirt from her backpack by the bed, and changed as she followed Sharon into the bathroom next door. They took turns washing their hands, and were just drying them on the towel, when Daddy stuck his head in the partly open door.

“Ready for supper, girls?”

“Hi, Daddy.”

“Hi, Mr. Carter.”

“How’s your head feeling?” Sharon asked, running to hug his legs, and look up at him anxiously. Sometimes Daddy had headaches and he needed to lie down and take a nap.

“Just fine, punkin.” He bent down to kiss her, and tug on Rita’s pigtails. “Where did you two go this afternoon?”

“We flew in the sky!”

“And met a bunch of stinky monkeys!”

Both girls giggled, as they clattered after Daddy, each grabbing a hand.

Since Sharon would be at Aunt Peggy’s next week, Sharon and Rita wouldn’t see each other for a whole four days. So Rita was sleeping over for the weekend.

Tomorrow was Saturday, and Daddy and Mommy were taking the girls to the waterpark for a whole day. That meant burgers and fries and ice cream cones, and lots of sun and water.

The cake they had for dessert was really good, but it was hard to think about anything other than tomorrow. Sharon had been there twice, once before with Rita. And now they were older and bigger and could swim better, so they would be able to go on the bigger slides.

After supper, they watched _Cinderella_ , Mommy’s favourite Disney movie, and then all sat on the rug to play Trouble. Mommy always jumped when they popped the bubble, and it made Daddy laugh.

That night, as Mommy dried her hair after her bath, Sharon listened to Daddy playing the piano downstairs. He liked to play, he said it helped him think better. Mommy liked to sing, and Sharon loved it when Daddy would play and Mommy would sing, and she would sit on the living room floor and close her eyes and just listen.

Mommy ended up singing to Sharon and Rita that night.

Even with all their adventures and games that afternoon and evening, the girls kept giggling about tomorrow, and it was hard to pay attention to Mommy reading _The House at Pooh Corner._ So she put down the book, and turned out the light, making sure the nightlight was on first, and sang to them.

_I’ll walk in the rain by your side_

_I’ll cling to the warmth of your hand_

_I’ll do anything to keep you satisfied_

_And I’ll love you more than anybody can_

It was a song Mommy always sang to put Sharon to sleep. Downstairs Daddy was playing it on the piano. Sharon sighed, and curled up against Rita. She liked how Rita smelled. She loved her best friend. They would have so much fun tomorrow…

_And the wind will whisper your name to me_

_Little birds will sing along in time_

_Leaves will bow down when you walk by_

_And morning bells will chime_

******

“Aunt Peggy!” Sharon honestly couldn’t help screaming. Just a bit.

“What? What is it?”

“There’s a monster under the bed!”

“What?” Aunt Peggy stopped in the doorway, blinked at her great-niece.

“Well, there’s something.” Sharon sat in the middle of the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped tightly around them. “I heard it move.”

Aunt Peggy had grey in her hair, a lot of it actually, but Sharon thought she couldn’t be that much older than Grandpa, who was her little brother. When she had kissed Daddy on the cheek that morning when she picked them up to take them to the airport, Daddy had laughed and said, “Spry as ever, Auntie. Are you ever planning to slow down?”

Sharon liked the word ‘spry’. It worked very well for Aunt Peggy.

Now for a minute, Sharon thought Aunt Peggy was going to laugh. But then she didn’t, and instead came hurrying across the room, to climb up on the bed. She sat in front of Sharon, wrapping the oversized jumper she wore over her pyjamas tighter around her.

“What do you think it is?”

Sharon stared at Aunt Peggy, who did not look frightened one bit. In fact, she seemed to be smiling. Just a little. That made Sharon relax her grip on her knees. Just a little.

What _did_ Sharon think it was?

“Shh,” Aunt Peggy held a finger to her lips. “Listen.”

Sharon closed her eyes tight, because that made it easier, and obeyed.

Snuffling. A faint thumping noise: _Tunk, tunk, tunk, tunk._

_Awrgh._

Sharon gasped, snapped her eyes open to stare at Aunt Peggy. “It talks!”

“What did it sound like?”

Sharon did her best imitation of the little growly, whiny sound the creature had made.

“Do you think it’s very big?” Aunt Peggy asked.

“Wellllllll…” Sharon bit her lip. “Probably not. It’s breathing isn’t very loud.”

“Good!” Aunt Peggy was definitely smiling now. “Very good logic. Should you have a look then?”

Sharon bit her lip.

“It’s okay. You can lean over the edge, and I’ll hold your legs so you don’t fall. And I can pull you back if you get scared.” Aunt Peggy was definitely smiling now.

Sharon narrowed her eyes at her, frowning. Or she was trying to frown, because Aunt Peggy smiling made her feel like smiling too.

“Promise?”

“Pinky swear.”

Sharon took a deep breath and hooker her little finger with Aunt Peggy’s.

“Alright, Agent.” Aunt Peggy grinned. “Let’s get this mission started.”

Sharon listened for a moment, but the noises seemed to have stopped. She took a deep breath, bit her lip, and looked hard at Aunt Peggy, before turning toward the edge of the bed. “Okay. Here goes.”

She flopped onto her stomach, and felt Aunt Peggy’s strong fingers wrap around her ankles, as she started to slide over the edge. Down she went, holding her breath most of the way.

There was a thing around the bottom of the bed, just like at home; Mrs. Levellie called it a skirt, which Sharon had always thought funny—a bed having a skirt. Sharon held her breath again, when the snuffling started up again, but then she thought of Rita. Rita wouldn’t think twice about looking for a monster. And Aunt Peggy had fought _real_ monsters; at least that was what she had said.

Taking a very deep breath, Sharon reached with her free hand for the floor. She had to let go of the edge of the bed to get there. As soon as her palm smacked against the smooth wood, she yanked the skirt up with her other hand.

Eyes. Staring at her.

A sharp yipping sound.

Something hit her face, and she screamed, kicked out, Aunt Peggy lost her grip, and Sharon tumbled heels over head to the floor.

“Ohhh!” Sharon squealed, trying to fend off the small wriggly thing, that yapped and licked her face. “Aunt Peggy. Aunt Peggy!”

“It’s alright, Sharon!” Aunt Peggy was laughing, definitely laughing. “It’s just a–”

“A dog! A dog!” Sharon pushed herself up, breathing hard and trying to hold onto the little wriggling black and white… dog. “You have a dog?!”

“Yes, I do.” Aunt Peggy grinned at her from the bed. “You got a problem with that?”

“What’s his name?!”

“Mickey.”

The little fellow gave a yip, and looked up at Aunt Peggy, tail whipping from side to side.

“Bring him up.”

Amazed and thrilled, though still catching her breath, Sharon got to her feet, and handed the little dog to her Aunt, then scrambled up on the bed beside them.

“What kind is he?”

“He’s called a pap-ee-yon.” Aunt Peggy sounded it out. “It’s French for ‘butterfly’, because their ears are like wings.”

Sharon had never seen a dog like this. He was so small and fluffy and sweet, and his eyes were so bright and his ears so big, _just_ like butterfly wings. “Mickey,” she whispered, stroking the warm little back, and a small pink tongue licked her hand.

“Why is he called Mickey?”

Aunt Peggy smiled a little. “Well, my big brother’s name was Michael. But this little fellow isn’t Michael, he’s Mickey. I mean look at those ears!”

Sharon laughed, and rubbed her fingers gently over the little head.

“What happened to Michael?”

Aunt Peggy pressed her lips together, and Sharon wondered if she’d said the wrong thing.

“He died in the war. That was the reason I signed up. He always told me I was meant to do big things, exciting things. We used to fight dragons together.” As she talked, Aunt Peggy settled back against the pillows, Mickey curling up on her stomach.

Sharon recognized the look on her face, like Daddy’s when he was thinking of a story. She burrowed under the blanket and curled up against Aunt Peggy’s side.

They had had a fun day.

After dropping Mommy and Daddy off at the airport, Aunt Peggy had said she had the day off from any work, and they would go to the city and get ice cream and see a movie. They had seen _The Secret Garden_ , which both of them had liked, and then they had gone to the park, and Sharon had worked off all her energy from bringing a garden back to life, by swinging on the monkey bars, and playing soccer with some boys.

Then they had had supper with Aunt Peggy’s friend Angie, and that had been fun. Angie always told really crazy stories, and made Sharon laugh till she snorted milk up her nose.

But now Sharon wanted one of Aunt Peggy’s stories.

“Have you fought any real dragons?” Because she always wondered if they could possibly be real.

“Dragons enough.” Aunt Peggy lifted her eyebrows. “The worst one was called the Red Skull.”

“How did you fight him?”

“With a very special team.”

“The Howling Commandos.” Sharon grinned. She knew the beginning of this kind of story.

“You know how dragons have caves, where they store their treasure?”

“Mhm.”

“Like Smaug.”

“Who’s Smaug?”

Aunt Peggy raised her eyebrows. “Going to have to put _The Hobbit_ on the list. But not until we’ve finished Arthur Ransom. Speaking of which, why don’t you get _Swallows and Amazons_ from the shelf.”

“Aww.” Sharon knew she was making what her dad called ‘the pouty face’. “I want a Commandos story. I want a Steve story.”

Aunt Peggy looked at her silently, and Sharon felt her face softening, before she finally dropped her chin.

“You know I’m English. British. Which means you have some of that in you too. But when your British, you’re not supposed to let things bother you, or let other people see you having a bad day. And sometimes you need to do that. Keep a stiff upper lip. Carry on.”

Sharon tilted her head to one side, trying to pay attention and understand.

Aunt Peggy smiled, but there was something sort of wrong about it. “And sometimes that’s a good thing. Sometimes you have to stay strong and hold how you feel inside, and just keep doing the next right thing. You’ll learn that, Sharon.” With one hand she pulled Sharon’s head back down to her shoulder, pressed a kiss to her hair.

“But some days… you have just have to let it be okay. That you don’t feel okay.” Aunt Peggy took a deep breath.

“Another thing you’re going to learn, dear is that you are going to love people. And you’re going to lose them. It happens to everybody.”

Sharon bit her lip hard, suddenly feeling like she might cry. Because what did Aunt Peggy mean about losing people? How could you lose a person? Did she mean like Mr. Francesco had lost his dog? But she didn’t want to say anything; it didn’t feel right to interrupt.

“And after you lose them, you’ll still love them. And you’ll think about them and talk about them. But sometimes doing that will hurt. And you’d just rather not right then. Sometimes when it’s been a long time, that will make it easier. Usually it does. But sometimes, knowing how long it has been since you saw someone, or several people, and did something, that makes it sad again.”

There was a long silence, and Sharon stared down at the comforter, the yellow flowers, but she didn’t really see them.

Aunt Peggy suddenly took a sharp breath, turning her head to look at Sharon. “Oh, I am sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to unload all that on you.”

“Do you mean that you’re sad, Aunt Peggy?”

Aunt Peggy gave a very small laugh, and hugged Sharon to her, and Sharon relaxed, looking up to smile at her.

“I was yesterday. Which is why I wanted to spend all of today with you.” Aunt Peggy tapped her nose. “Because you make me feel better. Now why don’t you fetch the Swallows?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Songs quoted:  
> 'For Baby (For Bobbie)' by John Denver


	2. Candles in the Window

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I am really enjoying about writing a backstory for a more ordinary and modern kid, is how much easier it is to use some of my own memories. I put a lot of different bits and pieces into this chapter. I really really really love Christmas!!  
> Also, if some of this writing seems a bit loose, I'm allowing myself that on purpose, just because it feels more like how I remember things feeling when I was a kid at that age. Hope that doesn't make me drop below anyone's expectations.

“Mommy! Where’s my stocking? Did you pack it already?”

“Yes.” Mommy’s head poked up through the attic floor looking frazzled (Sharon’s new favourite word); her short hair was ruffled around her ears. “I packed them all. Now come along. You need to finish with your suitcase. We need to leave in thirty minutes.”

“Okay, okay!” Sharon scrambled to follow her mother, squeezing past her on the narrow stairs, and charging through the door into the hall. “I still have to give Rita her present!”

“Only if your suitcase and backpack are ready. Give them to me, and you can go to Rita’s.”

“Okay, okay!”

All her clothes and presents for the family went in Sharon’s little suitcase, because she didn’t need those on the drive. The important things like Bunty, and Cougar and Gracie, her model horses, and her paper for drawing or writing, and her markers, and her three Animal Ark books, and her mints in case she started feeling carsick, which happened sometimes—all those things had to go in her backpack, which she kept with her in the car. It was a long drive from Gainesville to Morgantown, where Grandpa's house was.

The suitcase was sitting by the door of her room, and after one more frazzled check of her backpack, Sharon handed it over to Mommy who had followed her. Then she snatched it back.

“No, I’ll take it with me.”

“Okay, but don’t take too long.”

Sharon thrust her arms through the straps of the green bag, and carefully scooped up the present sitting on her bed. It was wrapped in paper with giraffes and monkeys and trees and lions on it, and it was a little messy, but Daddy’s wrapping always looked worse. Sharon had wrapped it as soon as they got home from shopping and hidden it away in her underwear drawer; she couldn’t risk Rita seeing it.

This was a Christmas where the Carters were all gathering at Grandpa Harrison’s house for the holiday. Sharon and her parents would get there sometime this afternoon, Christmas Eve. Sharon liked being with all the family and cousins, but she didn’t like not seeing Rita on Christmas Day, and opening their presents together then. It felt… wrong to open their presents the day before. But it was always more fun to see each other’s faces. So Sharon put up with it.

“I’ll send Dad to get you when it’s time to leave!” Mommy called after Sharon as she ran down the stairs.

Mrs. Levellie was putting on her coat at the side door, and she smiled at Sharon. “Merry Christmas, honey. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember to say goodbye before I left.”

“Hug!” Sharon exclaimed, jumping to wrap her arms and legs around the woman’s middle, koala style.

Mrs. Levellie grunted, and pretended to wobble. “You’re getting too big for this, honey. Or maybe I’m getting too old.” She laughed, and kissed Sharon’s cheek, and Sharon sniffed the sugar and chocolate and pine-sol that still lingered on the woman.

“You’re never too old.”

Mrs. Levellie laughed again, and Sharon slid back to the floor. “Well, you are definitely getting bigger. Good grief, almost eight already?”

“Yep!” Sharon said proudly, struggling out of her backpack to put the present in the front pocket, and sit down to pull on her boots.

“You running over to see Rita?”

“Yep!”

“Well, I’ll see you in a couple weeks, honey. Try not to have too much fun without me!”

Sharon didn’t know how to respond to that, one of those silly things grown-ups said. Of course she was going to have fun. And of course she would miss Mrs. Levellie too. But she wasn’t going to not have fun because of that. Mrs. Levellie had two weeks of vacation, and she was going home to Canada with her husband to see her family. She would have fun too.

“How about we both have fun and tell about it next time we see each other?”

Mrs. Levellie did her really big grin, so that even her crooked teeth showed. “Deal, honey.”

Sharon pulled her coat on really fast, doing up the zipper wrong in her hurry. But that didn’t matter, she could fix it on the run. She grabbed up her backpack. “Gotta go,” she said, copying her dad. “Bye, Mrs. Levellie! Merry Christmas!”

“Bye, Sharon! But what about your-?”

Sharon didn’t hear the last of it, closing the door behind her, and jumping off the steps into the snow.

They had had a lot of snow this winter already. She ran out onto the front lawn, waved to Mr. Jenkins shoveling his driveway, and ran across the road. It was a circle and the Carter’s house was on one side of it, so it was easy to see if any cars were coming. She could look and move at the same time.

Rita’s house was directly across the circle, number 11. Sharon was glad she had put the present in her backpack—it left her hands free to climb the drift on the edge of the island in the middle of the circle. She slogged through the snow as fast as she could, the bottoms of her jeans getting wet.

She scrambled down the snowbank on the other side, and ran across the road and up Rita’s driveway, and down the paved path to the kitchen door. Sharon didn’t need to knock at Rita’s house, just like Rita didn’t at hers.

“Sharry!”

Rita flung herself at her in a hug, and Sharon hugged back.

“Come on. Let’s go to my room. I’ve got your present.” Rita barely gave Sharon time to kick her boots off, before she was tugging her down the hall and up the stairs.

They sat on Rita’s bed; she was the only girl in her family, and didn’t have to share a room with anyone.

“You open yours first,” Rita urged, shoving a lumpy, odd-shaped package at Sharon. It was strangely heavy, and was wrapped what appeared to be several different patterns of Christmas paper.

Puzzled, Sharon dug into the layers of tape, making Rita wave her casted wrist in the air apologetically.

“Sorry, I had Kevin wrap it and he’s awful.”

Sharon managed by finding a beginning of a piece of tape and peeling enough away to get to the paper itself. It parted easily enough.

First thing to fall out was a knife. A real solid jackknife, but not battered and scratched and initialed like all of Rita’s brothers’. The handle was inlaid with glossy red-brown wood, and Sharon scooped it up felt the heft of it in her palm. It was just on the edge of too big, probably by her birthday it would fit her fingers perfectly. She pressed her thumb against the blade, flicked it open.

“I made sure it had a good flick.” Rita bounced slightly. “I thought you should have one, because I know someone is getting me one for Christmas. So there’s yours.”

Sharon wasn’t sure if Mommy would like her having a knife, but she wasn’t stupid. She knew to be careful with a sharp blade. In their games in the summer, she and Rita had shared a little old Swiss army knife one of Rita’s brothers had chucked. They had been carving swords to go with their bows and arrows when the blade broke.

“I didn’t put your initials on, obviously, but I didn’t get Kevin to do it either. I thought you’d want to do it yourself. Because it’s wood, it will be easy to do with a nail.”

Sharon snapped the blade shut, careful of her fingers, and slid it into her jeans pocket. “Awesome. Thanks, Reet.”

The rest of the package was candy, Sharon’s favourite chocolate-covered raisins, a tube of Starbursts, and one huge blue jawbreaker. “I can suck it on the way to Grandpa’s,” grinned, opening her backpack, and making room for the treats.

“And here’s yours,” she added, just a little shy, because she did want so badly for Rita to be happy.

And of course she was.

It was a documentary on VHS about Jane Goodall, Rita’s favourite person right now. She was crazy about monkeys and lions, and had read every book in the library about animals and Jane Goodall. Rita was determined to be an ‘animal watcher’ as she called it, when she grew up. As well as a jungle explorer, with a side job in mapping caves.

As soon as Sharon had seen it in the mall, she had known it was perfect. Or she had hoped it was.

When she had torn open the paper, Rita gave a yell and threw herself on top of Sharon, sending both of them tumbling off the bed. She was still holding the cassette, and just saved it from being squashed. Then she jumped up and pranced around the room, chanting in a funny squawky voice, “I am the jungle. I am the wild. Fear not the animals.”

Sharon collapsed in a fit of laughter. “They’ll totally think you’re one of them if you do that!”

Rita stopped chanting and did her very best parrot-getting-murdered screech.

Three screams of varying intensity and pitch answered immediately from elsewhere in the house, and Sharon had spent enough time with Rita to identify Harry, Jason, and Frank, but she could never figure out which scream was Jason and which was Harry between the two.

Daddy came a few minutes later, calling Sharon’s name up the stairs, and she knew it was time to go.

They hugged goodbye in the kitchen, and Daddy had to pry them apart.

“Promise you’ll have fun,” Sharon sniffled.

“Promise you will.”

“I promise.

“I promise too.”

They linked pinkies, and finally Sharon followed Daddy out the door, turning round several times to wave to Rita.

“It’s only for four days,” said Daddy, taking her hand.

“I like seeing Rita on Christmas Day.” Sharon was trying hard not to actually cry. She didn’t want to look like a baby. “That’s my favourite present.”

Daddy squeezed her hand. “I know. Best friends are the best. You can still call her from Grandpa’s house. How about Christmas morning? Before lunch.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No. No it isn’t.”

Sharon climbed into the backseat of the car without saying anything, and sat quietly for a while, listening to her parents talk, without really understanding anything they were saying. After a while hugging Bunty, and feeling the lump of the knife in her pocket, she felt better.

She loved Rita with all her heart, and any time they had to be somewhere further than just across the street from each other, it was like something was missing. But she had promised Rita she would have fun.

Daddy turned the radio on to play Christmas music, and she sat up to dig in her backpack. The first thing she found was the jawbreaker, and she smiled, and stuffed it into her mouth.

She settled Bunty beside her, and took out _Hedgehogs in the Hall_. The jawbreaker was too big for her to close her mouth properly, and she had to slurp every now and then to keep from drooling.

“Ah,” said Daddy, and when she glanced up, he was smiling at her in the rearview mirror.

******

Sharon and her parents went to church usually about once a month, and Sharon often thought it was a bit boring. But the one time she loved to go to church, was at Christmas.

First there were the decorations, the real (not fake one bit) green things that smelled just like Christmas trees, and the bright red bows, and the golden strings woven in among it all.

Then there were the lights, Christmas tree lights, yeah, but also _candles_ , and Sharon could never explain why she loved candles so much, the way they glowed and the little flame danced, and it was actually _warm._

And there was the music. Sharon loved the songs, the way you could shout out ‘Angels We Have Heard On High’ or ‘Joy to the World’ and not get told off for singing too loud. And the way the church would get so quiet and soft when they sang ‘Away in a Manger’ or ‘Silent Night’.

Mrs. Levellie had told her a story about soldiers singing ‘Silent Night’ and having Christmas together instead of fighting, in a war a long time ago.

On the drive from Grandpa’s house to the church, she jigged around in the backseat, making Mommy laugh.

“Where’d you get all this energy?” she asked. “Must be from the nap you had on the drive.”

“Then where’s your energy?” Daddy asked her. “You had a good long nap too.”

“It’s in my suitcase,” said Mommy laughing, and giving him a little swat on the arm. “Saved up for tomorrow.”

Sharon giggled, just because she loved her Mommy and Daddy, and they loved each other, and they all loved Christmas. When she climbed out of the car into the beautiful, dim, snowy world, she gasped.

Outside Grandpa’s church were two big trees, and they were covered in Christmas lights.

“Those weren’t there last time!” she exclaimed, dancing around Daddy, and racing to join a few other kids who were also running around on the lawn, under the trees.

A bunch of those kids were her cousins, who were all staying at the big house too. Sharon was sharing a room with Dot who was way older than her, a teenager, and Sarah who was two years younger. Dot was kinda boring, but Sarah was okay. Her brother Nate was Sharon’s favourite cousin; he was the same age as her, almost exactly. Her birthday was in January and his was in March.

Sometimes Max told her to ‘buzz off’, but Nate would usually let her join whatever game the boys were playing.

Sharon was glad that she didn’t have to look after the twins, Maggie and Esther. They were really noisy, ‘bratty little kids’ Dot called them. Their favourite person was Percy, and Sharon felt for sorry for how they climbed on him and pulled out his pockets looking for things. Only Cyril was younger than them; he was just a baby.

They went inside the church, with grownups trying to brush snow off them, and hung up their coats, and sorted themselves into three or four pews near the front on one side. Sharon was happy that she was able to sit between Mommy and Nate. She was also proud that this year, Mommy gave her the candle to hold, and she and Nate passed it back and forth, sometimes letting Daddy take a turn when they got tired.

The first song was ‘O Come All Ye Faithful’ and at one point Sharon stopped singing and closed her eyes, and just _listened._

_Oh, come let us adore Him!_

_Oh, come let us adore Him!_

_Oh, come let us adore Him,_

_Christ the Lord!_

When they sat down and the man started reading from the Bible, Nate whispered to her, “Your mom sounds the coolest of everyone.”

Sharon felt as if she was glowing with pride. “I know.”

“Way better than that guy in the front. The skinny one? With the long hair? His voice sounds like a- a dying giraffe. You know, really thin, and it takes forever to get up the loooong neck.”

They got told very firmly to ‘hush’ and ‘stop giggling’. It was very hard not to.

But they did sing ‘Silent Night’, at the end, and all the lights went down except for the candles. Sharon looked around in the hush and the glow and the air that smelled so beautiful at all the faces, and she felt the magic all the way down to her toes.

Mommy put an arm around her shoulders, and hugged her against her side. Not wanting to leave anyone out, she linked her arm through Nate’s, and pulled him into the family chain.

They had cookies afterwards, and one of the twins hit a little boy Sharon didn’t know, but Aunt Peggy stepped in and took both twins off by the scruff of their necks, and when Sharon next saw them, they were a lot quieter.

Some boys and girls started a snowball fight on the lawn, but poor Nate got dragged away by his mother, Aunt Phyllis, so Sharon pitched in beside Dot, and they defended their position by one of the big trees valiantly. Dot could be a fun cousin sometimes.

The calls of parents, and the threat of cars leaving without them, finally broke up the war.

“We’re not supposed to fight on Christmas,” Sharon said solemnly to Dot as they walked to the parking lot, shaking snow off themselves. “Like the ‘Silent Night’ soldiers.”

“The what?” Dot asked.

So, Sharon started telling the story, and Dot rode back to Grandpa’s house with them, just so she could hear the end.

Sharon had been in one of these big family Christmases before, which had been years ago, and she didn’t remember much of it. One thing she did remember clearly though, was the drinking of hot chocolate, and hanging of stockings, with everyone in their pyjamas right before bed.

Even the grown-ups put up stockings. Well, most of them. Sharon actually heard Nate’s horrid step-dad saying something to his wife about stockings being ‘dumb’ and the kids being ‘spoiled’. She was just ready to get mad at him, and tell him off, when a hand landed on her shoulder.

“Careful,” said Grandpa’s voice, and he reached to steady her mug. “Don’t want to waste any of this delicious hot chocolate on getting angry now.”

Sharon looked up and saw that he had heard. “But that’s like saying Christmas is dumb!” she whispered indignantly.

“Oh, Christmas can happen without stockings,” Grandpa smiled. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her to his big armchair near the fireplace. He had a bit of an accent like Aunt Peggy’s, and Sharon liked trying to copy it when she talked to him. “Just ask Peg,” he added, sitting down with a grunt, and patting his knee for Sharon to climb up.

She sat sideways so she could look at his face, and still see the Christmas tree. Some of the little ones were romping on the big couch, but Sharon liked being with Grandpa. Rita had two grandpas and two grandmas. This Grandpa was Sharon’s only one.

“Who’s-?” she started, before she remembered. Aunt Peggy. It was just funny to hear Grandpa call her that. She looked over to where the woman was laughing on the couch with cousin Terry, who was her son, and cuddling Mickey. Aunt Peggy had brought the little dog with her, and everyone loved him.

“But when did Peg—Aunt Peggy—not have stockings?”

“Oh, in the war. She was in Italy, I believe, for her first Christmas in theatre. She has told me stories about the one soldier who was a beautiful fiddler, and he played Christmas carols and they had a service and sat around fires and someone passed out oranges.”

“They _passed out?!_ Why would they pass out if there were oranges?”

Grandpa laughed again, hard enough that Sharon saw ripples in her mug. There wasn’t much left, and she quickly drank it in one gulp, before it got any colder.

“Did you fight in the war, Grandpa?” she asked, leaning up against him, watching the sleeping twins get carried off to bed.

“No, I was too young.”

“Did you ever have a Christmas without stockings?”

“Oh, yes. Several.”

“Was it still Christmas?”

“Always.” He hugged Sharon close for a moment, then sat back and looked at her. “Stockings and trees and big dinners and snow and special wrapping paper are all wonderful. Lovely traditions that we should enjoy when we can have them. But they aren't everything. You can have Christmas anywhere, with anything happening around you, because the true Christmas is all in here.” He tapped her chest. “In your heart. So as long as it’s Christmas in there, it’s Christmas.”

Sharon frowned at him. She thought she maybe understood, and she didn’t want to sound stupid, but Grandpa never made her feel like that. “But what does Christmas in my heart look like?”

He smiled, leaned to kiss her forehead. “You’ll learn.”

“Hey, Dad.”

Daddy came up and leaned down to kiss Grandpa on the cheek.

“Should probably take this munchkin punchkin off to bed,” Daddy said, stroking Sharon’s hair.

“Awww,” Sharon moaned. “I was talking to Grandpa.”

“You go on,” Grandpa smiled. “We can talk more tomorrow. And the sooner you go to bed, the sooner you can wake up.”

“Besides,” Daddy dropped his voice. “I heard Dot say something to Sarah about a game when they went upstairs. So you should probably hurry and catch up so you don’t miss it.”

“Okay, okay, Daddy.”

Sharon slid down, and ran to the kitchen to leave her dirty mug on the counter by the sink. She ran back to give both Grandpa and Daddy hugs and kisses goodnight, and went off to find Mommy.

The two men watched her go, and Harrison took a seat on the arm of his father’s chair.

“She’s special,” Matthew Carter pronounced.

Harrison chuckled. “I know I’m biased, but yes, she definitely is.”

“Quick as a whip. She’ll be doing something with her life.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Just as much spirit as you had at that age.” The older man poked the younger in the side. “But she got your wife’s more balanced approach. For the most part.”

Harrison spoke again in a low voice. “I’m half afraid though, with all of the stories she gets told, and her ideas about heroes, she’ll end up a soldier or something.”

“You sound like my parents.” His father stared into the flames. “When Peggy was going to join up. Michael had already been killed, and they kept telling her it was no place for a girl.” He smiled. “But you see where that’s brought her.”

“I know, but…” Harrison leaned back, crossed his arms. “She’s kind, got a good heart, but she’s so smart and really strong when she fights for something. I think she’d make an awesome lawyer.”

His father chuckled. “Father and daughter, eh? Of course, that would be nice for you.” He patted his son’s knee, but then left his hand there as he went on soberly, “But don’t try too hard, to make her do anything. Don’t force her into anything, if that’s not where she wants to be. She has a much better heart than I did, but I don’t want to see our family repeating old mistakes.”

Harrison swallowed hard, and leaned down to put his arm around his dad’s shoulders. “I know, Dad.”

They sat for awhile in the now-hushed living room, until Maryanne came in to shoo her father and her little brother off to bed.

******

Sarah woke up first the next morning, and bounced on the big bed until Sharon and Dot woke up too. They could hear the boys talking loudly in the room next door.

“They woke me up,” Sarah said, as they scrambled for the door.

Sharon joined in the shouting as the whole mob raced downstairs to the living room.

They were allowed to open their stockings right away, but the presents under the tree couldn’t be started on until the grown-ups were there.

It was still dark outside as they all chattered and squabbled and collected their stockings and found comfortable places to sit while they unloaded their cargo. Sharon thought of that when Percy started singing ‘I Saw Three Ships’.

She sat cross-legged near Sarah and Nate, on the rug, and got a lot off attention when she pulled out her jackknife to peel an orange from her stocking.

“Blimey!” said Nate, borrowing an expression from Grandpa. “Who gave you that?”

“Rita,” Sharon grinned, tossing an orange peel into the fire, which Dot had stoked when they first came down. “My best friend.”

“Mine’s just a little one from the five-and-dime.” Nate looked grumpy. “And I’m a boy!”

Sharon couldn’t help laughing at him, even though she felt a little sorry for him. It _was_ a beautiful knife Rita had given her; it would probably last her for years and years and years. “Well, maybe you’ll get a nicer one for Christmas.”

Nate scowled. “Mom would think a knife wasn’t safe. And Mason is an old fart–”

“Nate!” gasped Sarah.

“–who doesn’t think kids should get presents at all.”

“Dad!” Max was waving something at Uncle Kurt who had just come in, looking funny with his pyjama shirt tucked into jeans.

Sharon felt very sorry for Nate, even as she gathered up the candy bars, sweets, horse stickers, cassette tapes, magic pencils, and other odds and ends, and stuffed them back into the stocking. They’d be safest there.

Sharon had liked Nate’s first dad, Uncle Fed, much better. He was funny and made kids laugh. He was good friends with Daddy and would stop in for supper if he was near Washington. Sharon didn’t know what his job was, or why he and Aunt Phyllis had gotten a divorce, or why Nate hardly saw him anymore. It made her sad to think about, and she didn’t want to be sad on Christmas. She really really hoped Nate would like the model of a police car she had gotten him. He loved to build things like that.

The twins were chattering about how much Santa had put in their stockings, and Aunt Peggy was laughing with Ella, who was her daughter. Ella didn’t have any kids or a husband, and she worked in California doing things with movies. It made Sharon happier to see her hugging her mother, like she was a kid even though she was old.

Sharon liked her family. She liked knowing people’s names, and where they fit in.

“Merry Christmas, honey.” Mommy startled her a bit, by coming up behind and kissing her on top of her head. “What are you looking so solemn about?”

Sharon shrugged, and scrambled up for a hug. “Merry Christmas, Mommy.” She buried her face in Mommy’s nightgown, and smelled her familiar smell, and she felt happy and excited and Christmassy again.

Then Uncle Kurt put a record of Christmas carols on, and they all opened presents, and ate breakfast off of plates on their knees.

Uncle Terry got Aunt Peggy’s bomb, which ticked ominously like it did every year, which cause a laugh and the twins squealed. Mickey danced around, and yipped, and chewed on flying wrapping paper, until Aunt Peggy made him sit next to her. Baby Cyril cried at all the noise.

Max got a microscope, and Sharon almost cried from happiness when Daddy told her that they could go to the shelter when they got home in a few days, and Sharon could get a kitten.

She thought that was the best part of the day and nothing could make it better, even the cherry pies that Aunt Maryanne was making that afternoon. Or so she told Rita over the phone.

Sometime after lunch, all of the kids were told to ‘go out and play in the garden’, so they put on their snowsuits and went. The snow had started again, big fat flakes that were lovely to catch on your tongue, and Sharon ran and laughed and helped bury Percy in a snowbank.

They also built a gigantic snowman, that Daddy came out and helped put the head on.

It was getting near supper time, and the house was smelling of turkey and pie and cinnamon and spices. Sharon was sprawled on the couch with Daddy, Nate and Max, playing Battleship, when they all heard a _rap, rap, rap_ of the knocker on the front door.

“Wonder who that could be?” Daddy said, even as Max sank one of his submarines. Max was really good at Battleship.

Cousin Ella went to answer it; they saw her pass in the hall.

“G 6, G 7, G 8,” Nate called.

“Sorry!” Sharon and the others all volleyed back.

“Harry?”

They all looked up at Aunt Phyllis, coming in from the hall. “There’s a man here looking for you.”

“Who-?” Daddy began, but then someone came into the room behind Aunt Phyllis.

He had taken his boots off, but he was still wearing a snow-dusted coat and scarf. He had black hair and brown skin, and his smile was big when he called out, “Merry Christmas, Harry!”

Sharon heard Daddy whisper something that was probably a bad word, before he was leaping to his feet, and bolting across the room. The two men almost fell over they hugged each other so hard.

Sharon discovered that she was laughing, even though she was crying, as she clapped her hands, and Mickey danced around barking.

“Who is that?” Nate asked. “And why are you crying?”

“That’s Uncle Jeremy, Daddy’s best friend.” Sharon pulled up the hem of her shirt to wipe her face. “And I’m not crying. I’m happy.”

“Was he away for a long time or something?” asked Max.

“Yeah. It’s been years since he and Daddy last saw each other. They talk a lot on the phone. But he never told Daddy he was going to be home for Christmas. I guess he wanted to surprise him. He’s in the Navy. Jeremy is.”

“Why did you call him Uncle?”

“Because Daddy always says he’s his ‘brother from another mother’.”

Sharon remembered visits from him before, how he and Daddy would always sit and talk for hours and hours. They were talking now, fast and loud, with a lot of laughing.

“Should we wait for him?” Max asked, but Nate shook his head.

“Nah, let’s just cut him out.”

“Hang on,” Sharon said, a little annoyed. “Let me go ask him.”

She ran across the room, and had to first throw her arms around Uncle Jeremy’s waist. “Merry Christmas!”

“Sharon!” He took her by the shoulders and held her away, so he could look her up and down. “My gosh you’ve gotten so big. And you’re almost nine!” He hugged her again.

“Um, Daddy, is it okay if we keep playing Battleship?”

“Oh, sure, go ahead and cut me out. I think supper will be called soon though.” He smiled down at her, and Sharon never forgot the way his whole face was glowing with happiness, the way his eyes shone.

She reached up to tug on his sweater, and he saw what she meant and bent down.

“Is this your best Christmas, Daddy?” she whispered into his ear.

He hugged her hard, and his voice sounded funny when he whispered back, “Yeah, I think it is.”

For that Christmas dinner they set another place, and Daddy sat between Jeremy and Mommy. Sharon, sitting beside Nate at the kid’s table, watched them laughing and talking, and she wondered if she might pop with all the happiness she felt.

While Grandpa said the blessing, Sharon sat quietly and watched the flames of the candles in each dining room window, dancing and glowing, throwing their light out into the darkness.

She smiled, and knew it was Christmas in her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, I've gotten very fond of Sharon's dad, and I will probably keep cutting to him every now and then. Maybe even give someone else like Rita a bit too. But it's still Sharon's story!


	3. Covert Operations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was fun. Sorry it took longer, my inspiration kind of exploded and spattered everywhere, so I've been working on four or five different things for the last couple weeks. And I have rewritten this author's note six times now. Yeesh! Here's lots of Peggy and Sharon time. They made me smile!

Mr. Lynton was in the middle of answering Rita’s question about etymology, when someone knocked on the classroom door.

The secretary poked her head into the silence, smiled at the staring faces. “Sorry if I’m interrupting, Mr. Lynton.”

“Well, you saved me from explaining how English overtook Latin as the language of the world, which I actually don’t know.” Their teacher grinned at Rita. “If only you put this much effort into your geometry, Miss Banks.”

Rita made a face at him, while even Sharon had to chuckle. Rita loved picking up the oddest bits of knowledge, often from things her brothers were talking about, and spouting off about them in class. Sharon knew that Mr. Lynton actually liked Rita, and enjoyed talking about the things she brought up. When Kevin had been ‘knocking around’, as he called it, in New Orleans Rita had talked so much about it that they had staged their own mini-Mardi Gras in class.

“Sharon Carter?”

Sharon blinked out of her thoughts, and sat up straight. “I’m sorry. Yes?”

The secretary smiled at her; she had a very toothy smile, though it was happy. “Oh, don’t worry, honey. You’re not in trouble. Just someone here to take you out.”

“Who?” Rita and Sharon asked at the same time. Sharon was scrambling to gather her books and pencils, and get them into her backpack.

“Just me.”

Sharon recognized the accent, before she recognized her great-aunt. Even with the mostly-grey hair, she looked _cool_ in jeans, a sweater and a ball cap.

“Hey!” Rita blurted. “You look… _young.”_

All the grownups laughed, Aunt Peggy most of all. “Thank you very much, Rita. Not bad for seventy-six, I suppose. And I am sorry I can’t take you, but I’m only authorized to take the birthday girl. I don’t want to be arrested for kidnapping.”

“I’d _love_ to get kidnapped by you,” Rita moaned.

Aunt Peggy smiled. “Maybe another day, dear.”

Rita gave a deep sigh, and stood up to hug Sharon goodbye. “Tell me all about it at the party later,” she whispered in Sharon’s ear.

Sharon gave her friend an extra squeeze with excitement. Getting pulled out of school was awesome in the first place, but this was Aunt Peggy! Who knew what she had cooked up?

“Have a happy birthday, Sharon!” Mr. Lynton called, and the rest of the class chimed in.

“Thanks!” Sharon called over her shoulder, as she hefted her backpack and followed Aunt Peggy out into the hall.

“Put this on,” Aunt Peggy ordered, handing Sharon a ball cap like hers.

Sharon blinked at the plain grey SHIELD logo on the front, but did as she was told. “Is this a birthday surprise?”

Aunt Peggy laughed. “Of course, it is. Do you know anyone else who has their birthday today?”

“Probably one three-hundred-and-sixty-fifth of the world’s population.”

“Clever.” Aunt Peggy walked briskly, almost a step ahead of Sharon. “But I thought you might like a truly undercover operation for once.”

 _Undercover?_ “You mean we’re going to be secret agents?” Sharon could not keep the grin from her face.

They were out in the parking lot now, Aunt Peggy fishing her keys out of her purse as they walked to her little red car. She didn’t answer the question until they were both in the car, buckled up. Then Aunt Peggy grinned, so that her face looked like a little kid’s except for all the wrinkles.

“I thought these would add to the… atmosphere.”

From her purse she pulled out two pairs of sunglasses, handing the smaller to Sharon, and sliding the other onto her own nose.

Sharon laughed out loud with delight, then immediately stifled it. This was a serious mission after all! She couldn’t just go laughing and giving the game away. She put the sunglasses on, and nodded at her great-aunt. “Ready.”

Aunt Peggy nodded back, serious again as she started the car. “Let’s go, Agent. I’ll fill you in on the way.”

******

Destination: Triskelion, SHIELD Headquarters, Washington, D.C.

ETA: 11:40 AM

Mission: To infiltrate the Triskelion, where a formal lunch was being held in honour of Alexander Pierce being named to the World Security Council, retrieve comestibles from said lunch, and withdraw from the premises, without being recognized or stopped.

Sharon ran over it in her head, and wondered if other people could see the excitement that must be glowing off her. “Aren’t there like a hundred floors? Which one are we going to?”

“Well, there will be a buffet in the staff room on almost every floor.” Aunt Peggy wove in and out of traffic like Harry and Jason playing F-Zero.

“The top floor?”

Aunt Peggy actually took her foot off the gas and pulled her sunglasses down her nose to look at Sharon over top of them. “Well, a bit reckless, but it’s always easier to tone down, than build up. I like your confidence, Agent.”

“Can’t I have a real codename? Or at least be Agent Something? Agent Carter?”

Aunt Peggy chuckled. “That’s me. Or _was_ me,” she added, sounding suddenly a little sad.

“Well, you can keep it. I could have a number like 007.”

“Your parents let you watch James Bond?”

“Nah, but Joshua likes them, so he watches them all the time.”

“Alright, Agent 10? For your birthday.”

“Agent 10. Agent Ten.” Sharon emphasised the last syllable, and made a face. “I don’t know, it sounds really short. How about 13? Agent 13? Because it’s the 13th of January.”

“Hmm.” Aunt Peggy nodded thoughtfully. “Agent 13. Thirteen!” she rapped out suddenly, making Sharon jump. “I think it works. As long as you’re not superstitious.”

Sharon shook her head, wrinkled her nose. “I think saying a number can bring you bad luck, and make you like crash your car or something is dumb. Daddy calls it ‘illogical’.”

“Good for you.”

Sharon heard the approval in the words, and felt her chest expand. She liked knowing that Aunt Peggy was pleased with her. Aunt Peggy was famous after all; she knew everything about being an agent, secret or otherwise, for the country. She’d fought in the Second World War, alongside Steve Rogers, Captain America. She had a picture of her and _President John F. Kennedy_. Having Aunt Peggy be proud of her, made Sharon deeply happy.

She tamed her desire to wriggle with joy, and tried to think of important questions to ask.

“Will we take the elevator or the stairs?”

“We might have to take both, to get around people, so be prepared. Have you been to the top floor before?”

Sharon nodded. “Once you took me up to the balcony. I like it up there, way high above the river.”

“The lunch will be catered, so there will be a lot of extra people around. We just have to look confident and like we know where we’re going. Which we do.”

“Ooh. Maybe they’ll have lots of those little sandwiches, and maybe the tiny cream-filled doughnuts!” Sharon had experience with catered lunches from parties at Daddy’s office.

Aunt Peggy braked for a stop light and grinned across at her. “It’s all-you-can-eat buffet, so it’s not stealing. We can save them for your party tonight, how abut that? Put them on a little plate with a sign saying ‘Compliments of SHIELD’. How much do you think we can smuggle out? I’ve got my purse and you’ve got your backpack.”

“Lot’s of room if I take out school stuff,” Sharon giggled. She pulled her backpack into her lap from the floor, and started to shuffle through it, looking for ways to make room. Math, science book, _Anne of Green Gables—_ they could all go. Aha, her lunch bag!

“Cool!” She peered into the paper sack. “It’s all in zip-lock bags. I can eat some of it now. Is that okay?” She glanced at Aunt Peggy.

“Good thinking.” Peggy hesitated, then added, “Do you have any of Mrs. L’s oatmeal honey cookies?”

Sharon couldn’t help giggling again. It was funny when Aunt Peggy sounded like one of her friends. “Yep. Two. One each.”

At the gates before the bridge, Aunt Peggy scanned her card and her hand.

“But won’t they know you’re here now?” Sharon asked.

Her great-aunt smiled. “I may not have the clearance I did, but I still register in the system with a generic pass. So, they won’t know it’s me.”

They had no trouble making their way to the parking garage, and Peggy found a spot right near the lift. She turned off the engine and checked herself in the mirror, pulled her ballcap down a little. “We won’t stand out nearly as much as you might think,” she said. “Not everyone wears ties and skirts. And some agents can’t be bothered to change out of their disguises. I had people turn up in my office in ballgowns, and others in plaid shirts.”

Sharon nodded, and climbed out of the car at the same time as Aunt Peggy. She twitched her braid back over her shoulder, straightened her own ball cap, tightened the straps of her backpack; she had left the school things piled on the back seat. She knew there was no actual danger involved in this mission. This was Peggy Carter she was with; everyone knew Peggy. Sharon suddenly wondered if she actually had an invitation to the party, but had decided this was more fun.

Aunt Peggy gave her a nod. “Ready, Agent 13?”

“Aye, aye Captain Carter.”

Peggy smiled a little at the title, but then she put her game face on. “Let’s go.”

******

Some parts of the big SHIELD building remained unfinished (when Sharon asked, Peggy said it was because of money), but Sharon thought the view from the top balcony was magnificent. It was the tallest building on the Potomac River, and one of the tallest in Washington, D.C.

A cold January wind whipped tendrils of hair around Sharon’s face, and she laughed, leaning into the gusts.

Aunt Peggy tugging on her jacket, reminded her that she wasn’t just any kid right now, she was a secret agent.

They made their way back inside, and stood in the warmth, collecting themselves. The very top floor of the Triskelion was just a big circular glass room, with the elevator in the middle.

“Well.” Aunt Peggy straightened her hair and settled her hat. Smoothed her shirt, and rebuttoned her coat. “Agent 13, I think it’s time for some comestibles.”

“Aye, aye, Captain!”

The marched to the elevator, and Sharon hit the button for the next floor down. “You know, they are working on making everything here run on AI, so you can just tell the elevator where you want to go,” Aunt Peggy murmured. “But they need more money for that.”

Sharon looked up at her. She knew enough sci-fi, to know AI meant artificial intelligence. “Do you not like that?”

Peggy shrugged. “Technology has its good sides, and we need to use it because you know our enemies are. But gadgets have a habit of giving out at the worst times. Always have a backup plan, Agent. Always.”

The elevator came to a stop, and Sharon reached for her great-aunt’s hand. “Positions.”

The door slid open to a three-way hallway. Two people were walking away to the left, and a man on his cell phone was walking straight toward them. Sharon wanted to freeze, but Aunt Peggy’s tug reminded her, and she looked away from him. They said nothing, just stepped out and walked down the hall to the right; Aunt Peggy’s grip reminded her not to look back.

“Do you smell anything, Agent 13?” Peggy murmured.

Sharon closed her eyes to concentrate better. “Yes! I smell food.”

“Let’s follow our noses then.”

No one stopped them, or called to them, as they made a right, then a left, then spotted a common area ahead. Though one lady gave Sharon a little smile, and Sharon smiled back.

Everything was going perfectly, Sharon thought, as she spotted a row of tables, with people starting to crowd around. Some of them had polo shirts all the same colours; she guessed that must be uniforms of some kind.

“Move in,” Aunt Peggy murmured, sounding perfectly southern. “Keep it casual. Stick together. Just be my niece.”

“Ohh, I can smell roast beef!” Sharon hopped on her toes, but stopped when someone raised an eyebrow at her.

“Come on,” Peggy said in a normal tone, but still sounding American. “Let’s get a quick bite, and then I’m running you home.”

“Okay, okay,” Sharon answered, like she was tired of following her aunt around all day. She couldn’t help feeling suddenly really nervous. She knew Aunt Peggy and she wouldn’t get sent to jail or anything, but she wanted to believe that this mission was important, and that they could accomplish it.

Quietly, keeping her head down, she followed Peggy into the milling people. They succeeded in getting handfuls of napkins and plates, without getting spoken to, and joined the rough lineup at the tables of food.

And that was when things started to go a little wrong.

People got between Sharon and Aunt Peggy. One moment she was carefully picking up a couple sandwiches, tucking them into a napkin. She had her backpack dangling from one arm as if it had slipped down, and sneakily (she thought) tucked the sandwiches into the main pocket. She would put a few more spoils in, and then step back, and just pretend to be fumbling with her backpack, while she put the stuff into the ziplock bags. But then the next moment, she looked up and Aunt Peggy’s jeans and jacket had disappeared. It was all suits and those polo shirts. And a bald guy in a long black coat with an eye patch.

Sharon swallowed her cry, and quietly stepped out of the line, looking ahead. There! Maybe ten feet ahead. Aunt Peggy stepped away from the tables, and glanced behind her. For a moment she couldn’t see Sharon, but then their eyes met, and she smiled and nodded.

Sharon smiled back, and tried not to breathe too fast. Didn’t want anyone noticing that. She set her backpack down, and shuffled in it, shoving the food she had snagged into the plastic bags.

When she glanced up, the man with the black coat and big black boots, was standing right beside her.

Slowly she looked up, found the one eye in a dark brown face.

He crouched down to her level. “Taking a few snacks home?”

Sharon didn’t know what to do. Except try to tell the truth as far as possible. So she nodded. Tried to look embarrassed instead of scared.

“I’m Nick. I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

Sharon found her voice. “Are you a pirate?”

He smiled. “I’ve tried that once or twice. Never ended very well.” He pointed to his eye patch. “What’s your name?”

“I’m not supposed to tell that to strangers,” Sharon said politely.

“That’s alright. But who are you here with?”

“My- my aunt.” She nodded toward the tables, where Aunt Peggy was now half-turned away, seeming to be chatting with one of the pale blue polo shirts.

“You enjoy those snacks, okay?” He stood up, nodded, and then… winked at her. Before he turned and walked straight toward Aunt Peggy.

Okay, they were caught. This was everything going wrong.

Sharon felt frozen, as the man, Nick, walked up to Peggy and spoke to her. Then with a gasp she came to, and ducked behind three women standing and chatting. She put a few more people between her and the man, hoping she wouldn’t be spotted. She ended up sandwiched between a large man and the table, staring at the fruit bowls.

She was torn between ‘fessing up and letting it all go as a joke like it really was, and keeping up the game and figuring a way out of all this. A peek around the fat man showed Aunt Peggy talking to the eyepatch man. Again she hesitated.

Well, if she was supposed to get her great-aunt out of this in a real covert operation, like real spies, how would she do it? What did they do? Like the Hardy boys, or James Bond, or the Doctor? A distraction. Cause a distraction. Something to make everyone look somewhere else.

But _what?_

Knock something over. Something that would make noise. But it couldn’t be obvious that it was her.

The table! If she could make one of the tables fall over, but make it look like an accident… Oh! Oh, yes! She could have squealed with excitement at her brainwave. But instead she took one glance around, made sure no one was watching, and dropped down to crawl under the table.

The long white cloths covering the tables reached almost to the floor, and no one would imagine there was a kid crawling around underneath. She tried to breathe quietly, even though she was terribly excited.

She looked up at the bottom of the tables, and discovered they were the same kind with the folding legs as they sometimes used at school, like to set up a bake sale or something. And they were the plastic kind too, the ones that she could carry one end of easily. _Yes, yes, yes!_ This plan would work perfectly.

She was small enough to easily crawl between the table legs, even with her backpack firmly back on her back. She even did the buckle up across her chest. After causing the distraction, she would need to scuttle really really fast, and she couldn’t let anything slow her down.

 _Move faster!_ She had to be like the people in the movies Joshua and the twins liked to watch.

She was only three tables away from the end, so she got there quickly. She twisted her head to examine the place where the legs bent, noted the little metal thing that locked it when the table was upright.

Okay, she needed to make one end of the table fall. So she needed to lift the table up enough to pull the legs in until it fell, and she would get back out of the way, and then crawl back down the row until she was past most of the people, who should all run toward the crash.

Cautiously, Sharon started to stand up, hunching over to put her shoulders against the bottom of the table. She felt the plastic pressing against her, then straightened her legs a little more to start taking the weight. It wasn’t too heavy, though she was terribly afraid of wobbling and giving the game away.

_Come on, you can do this! Think what a story you’ll have to tell Rita!_

Rita. Rita would _so_ totally love this. So, Sharon had to give her best for Aunt Peggy and Rita.

She planted her feet solidly, pulled back the little ring of metal with one hand, grabbed a table leg with the other, and lifted up the table just a little bit enough to pull the table legs toward her.

For a moment she was balanced there, one end of the table balanced on her shoulders, the legs in her hand, swinging freely. _One, two, three,_ she counted in her head, and then she pulled the legs all the way back and up, and dropped as low to the ground as she could, scrambling backwards.

_Crash!_

Down went the end of the table, and everything on it slid together to the floor. Sharon heard people yelping and screaming, but she was already under the second table, turning around and crawling away down the row as fast as she could move.

She stopped under the second-to-last table, breathing fast, and sat for a moment. She put her hand over her mouth to try to quiet it and listen.

People talking loudly, mostly down at the other end of the tables. A quick peek under the tablecloth showed no one’s toes pointing towards her hiding place. So, she took a deep breath, ducked under the cloth, and stood up.

“Sharon!”

Aunt Peggy’s voice was low and bit fierce. Then she had a hold of Sharon’s hand, a bit tighter than before, and she was striding away from the continuing hullabaloo. Sharon had to skip to keep up.

She couldn’t tell if her great-aunt was mad at her or not, so she didn’t say anything, just kept up with walking not too fast. Her heart was still beating really fast in her chest, and she felt a little dizzy from how quickly everything had happened.

They stepped into an elevator, Peggy pushed some buttons, and they started down. Sharon felt her great-aunt lean back against the wall, and she suddenly looked up at her, worried.

Aunt Peggy was looking down at her.

“Did you do that? Make the end of the table fall down?” Her voice was a bit softer than earlier, and Sharon bit her lip, before nodding slowly.

Peggy stared at her, and then to Sharon’s amazement, she was _smiling._

“Seriously?” She relaxed even more, the smile spreading into a grin that made all the crinkles in her face go together. “You did that?”

“Um, yeah.”

“Sharon, that was brilliant! How did you come up with that? You saved our whole operation!”

And then Aunt Peggy was _laughing_ right out loud, and Sharon started to giggle, and then they were both doubled over with mirth.

Then Sharon choked out, “I saved some of the egg salad sandwiches,” and Aunt Peggy gasped, “They looked like seagulls, diving for spilled fries!” and that set them off again.

It took them the whole 49 floors to stop laughing.

******

They took a booth in the corner, settling down with their burgers and fries.

“You know I’m supposed to be too old for MacDonalds,” Aunt Peggy grinned over at Sharon.

Sharon pretended to gasp. “Too old?! You can never be too old!”

“But I think I’ll just laugh if I look at a little sandwich, or even those little filled donuts.” Aunt Peggy started chuckling again. “Agent 13, you were simply smashing today. That was brilliant thinking.”

Sharon bit her lips together, smiling down at her burger (BLT with extra tomato). Aunt Peggy really thought she’d done well to think of that.

“Oh my, if I ever meet Nick Fury again, he’ll remind of this. Peggy Carter sneaking into a SHEILD luncheon.”

“Wait, did he figure it out?” Sharon looked up; eyes wide. “Why didn’t he chase us?”

“Because he knew it was me, goose. He seemed to be enjoying an old woman’s joke.” Peggy popped a fry into her mouth. “He said I was starting you awfully young, but I said you have a better brain for it than either Ella or Terrence did, bless them.”

“A better brain for what?” Sharon asked, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her great-aunt say it.

“For field work, of course. The action side of being a spy or a secret agent.” Aunt Peggy sipped her water, made a face. “I’m going to need a good strong cup of tea when I get you home. I’m too old for Adam’s ale.”

“You want me to be a secret agent?” Sharon knew her burger was getting cold, but she _needed_ to know what Aunt Peggy was thinking.

Aunt Peggy took a breath like she was going to say something, then paused, looking intently at Sharon. Something in her face changed, just a little.

“If you want to be,” she said quietly. “And only if _you_ want to be. Whatever you do with your life, Sharon, it should be things that excite you, and interest you, and definitely things you love. Do what you love. Okay?”

Sharon nodded slowly, unable to look away from Peggy’s eyes; she had never noticed how brown they were before.

Aunt Peggy smiled and sat back, ate another french fry. “Besides, there’s a lot more to being an agent for your country than running around and shooting guns. Or knowing how to drop the end of a table to cause a distraction.”

She grinned at Sharon, who relaxed and picked up her burger. “What kind of ‘lot more’?”

Aunt Peggy laughed a little, then looked thoughtful as she ate a few more fries. “Well, there are things like knowing how to wear a wig, and how to always note all the exits when you walk into a room, and how to get bloodstains out of a shirt.

“But you know, the most important thing, the most important thing you can ever know, is why you are doing it. Know why you are doing whatever you’re doing. Because if you know that, and believe it with all your heart, it can inspire you to do things you never thought you could, to hold on when you should have let go long ago. If you believe in your mission, whatever it is—protecting someone from danger, stopping someone from hurting others, protecting the people you love or your country—that can inspire you to be braver than you ever knew you were.”

Sharon chewed slowly, only sort-of tasting her lunch. She was still awfully hungry from the excitement of their raid. But she listened to Peggy, and thought she could understand what her great-aunt was talking about.

“Could I work for SHIELD?” she asked, after swallowing.

“If you wanted to.”

“Why is it called SHIELD again?” Sharon knew the answer already, but she wanted stories, and Aunt Peggy seemed to be in a very ‘story’ sort of mood.

Peggy smiled. “SHIELD. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Had to work pretty hard to come up with that.”

“That’s an acronym.”

“Yes, it is. But that wasn’t why we picked it. We picked it because–”

“Because Captain Rogers used a shield!”

“Yes! Like his shield we could be weapons, striking first or fighting back. But the main purpose of a shield is to protect and shelter. And that is our job. To protect other people, even the world, from the things that _could_ happen, the maybes, and to make them nothing more than might-have-beens. To let our country go on its merry way, and never know what almost happened.”

Sharon stared at her. “Like what? What almost happened?”

Peggy smiled. “Sorry, dear that’s classified.”

Sharon sighed. “You sound like the movies when you say that. Then tell me a _not-_ classified story.”

“Well, one time when we were on stand-by, on a quiet day we had a bit of a field day, you know, like a fitness competition. The Commandos were back with the SSR division, and they started it. They argued over whether or not Steve should be allowed to compete, because of his extra strength, but decided to let him. I did 107 one-armed push-ups, and thought I was going to die, but he was the only man there I couldn’t beat. Barnes actually beat him at throwing the shield; Steve missed two of his targets, and Barnes hit them all.”

“Sergeant James ‘Bucky’ Barnes,” Sharon piped up. “Steve Rogers best friend. He was rescued on Captain Rogers’s first mission to the HYDRA factory.”

“Right.” Aunt Peggy nodded, nibbled at her burger. “He was the Commandos sniper, ‘the best shot in the Army’, they used to say. He was offered a promotion above sergeant several times, but he always turned them down. Said he only wanted to fight at Steve’s back, and that was enough, thank you. You know, I might have had the privilege of fighting beside Captain Rogers in the war, but Bucky fought with Steve from the day they met as children. They would do anything for each other.”

“Like me and Rita.” Sharon grinned through her food, and Peggy made an ‘eww’ face, then laughed.

“Yes, you and Rita.”

“Tell an Uncle Daniel story now.”

Peggy’s face softened, even as her eyes lit up. “Have I told you about the time he pretended to have lost both legs?”

“Yes!”

“Well, how about the one where he almost blew up the microwave.”

“With the baked potato and the fork, yeah!”

“The time he got locked in a hotel bathroom with baby Terry, and I had to climb the wall outside to rescue him?”

Sharon started giggling. “Well, now you have!”

Peggy was laughing too. “You know something? He would absolutely love to hear about what you did today. He’d think you were a genius.”

Sharon smiled. She liked to think of Uncle Daniel, who had worked for SHIELD and fought bad guys even with part of one leg gone, being proud of her.

“I can’t wait to tell Daddy when we get home.”

Aunt Peggy reached over and smoothed some bits of hair out of Sharon’s eyes. “I know he’ll enjoy it. Why don’t you finish up that burger, so we can get to the movie you wanted to see?”

Sharon took a giant bite of her burger, then paused, and stared at her great-aunt.

“Wait,” she got out through her full mouth. “How many stories up did you have to climb?”

******

A Nerf battle raged all over the Carter house, including all of Rita’s brothers except Kevin and Joshua, Daddy, Uncle Fred, Jeremy, and all the guests: Nate, Rita, Heather from dance class, Pat from school, and Irene from riding lessons.

Sharon had gotten plenty of other presents—lots of books especially, and clothes, and a really pretty friendship necklace from Rita, and a long colourfully striped scarf from Grandpa because they had been watching Doctor Who every Saturday when Sharon visited—but she’d gotten Nerf guns from Uncle Jeremy, Aunt Peggy, Nate, and Uncle Fred. She had no idea where all the other weapons had been produced from; probably a secret stash of the Banks boys.

Uncle Fred was slaughtering them all, even Jeremy who was supposed to be good because he was actually in the military.

Mommy had just sighed and made sure there was nothing too breakable sitting in the open, and went to have tea with Aunt Peggy, Grandpa, and Mrs. L.

It was loud and sweaty and breathless, and there were foam bullets everywhere, and Sharon was going hoarse from yelling, “Back to back with me, man, and defend thyself!” to Rita, and “Down HYDRA scum!” to others.

“As if we’d stoop the level of Nazi trash!” Harry shouted back. “We just want your cake!”

“And your money!” Jason added, and promptly got shot in the heart by his twin.

Sharon was hiding behind the coats in the hallway, when Mommy collared her to say goodbye to Aunt Peggy, Grandpa, and Mrs. L.

“Time to get this old body into bed,” Aunt Peggy was saying. “Mickey will be wondering where I’ve been all day. Hope that boy next door hasn’t let him wee on the floor again.”

Sharon hugged them all, then whispered to Aunt Peggy, “Thanks for the awesomest birthday adventure _ever.”_

“You’ll shoot straighter if you adjust your grip,” Aunt Peggy answered. “I think you need to move your hand half-an-inch forward on the barrel.”

Sharon blinked, then picked up her gun and took a couple experimental shots at Midnight the cat, slinking out of the washroom.

“One finger-width forward.”

Another shot, which she nailed on the doorknob. “Awesome. Thanks Aunt Peggy.”

“Don’t mention it. Thanks for the sandwiches, love.” She winked, and Sharon stifled a giggle.

“My pleasure, Captain Carter,” she saluted.

“All mine, Agent 13,” Peggy nodded back. “Will we be getting an escort to our vehicles?”

“Oh, sure. If you want.”

Sharon went with them to the driveway, watched first Grandpa (Daddy said he probably wouldn’t be able to drive much longer with the way his knee was going) drive carefully off, and then Aunt Peggy pull away in her little red car, waving to Sharon.

Sharon waved back, then headed back to the house, enjoying the clouds her breath made in the cold air. Maybe they would get more snow days next week. And she could stay in bed and _read_ all day.

But right now, she had a battle to fight.

Peggy Carter drove home to her apartment, thinking of Ella’s and Terry’s 10th birthday parties, and how much Daniel would have loved to be there for Sharon’s. She chuckled again at the expression on Nick Fury’s face when the end of the table had crashed down.

Sharon was a good one, she thought. Sharon could be a _very_ good one.

 _“She’ll be a_ very _good one no matter what she does,”_ Peggy imagined her husband saying, and she sighed, smiled, and nodded in the dark.


End file.
